Lux In Obscuro
by Paperclip-Assassin
Summary: The Light in The Dark: It's the story of how Dean Winchester learns that he is worth saving thanks to the angel Castiel. And maybe even kinda sorta Crowley but that's debatable.- Destiel (mind the rating). Post Season 9. Complete. Also on ao3.


_Hello, fellow hiatus-sufferers._  
_I posted the first part of this story once before but now it's complete and three times as long._  
_Thank you to the two guest reviewers on the first post_

_This is_ _a story about what definitely should happen between Dean and Cas. _

_Anywho, this starts out kind of dark, then it's really steamy (no seriously, I've earned the rating on this one) and in the end I threw some humour in for good measure._

_Hope you enjoy reading as much as I did writing this babe._

Disclaimer: How funny would it be if I was actually Eric Kripke and only teasing you guys? I mean I'm not and I don't own SPN, but still.

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This is dedicated to a wonderful, wonderful friend of mine.

Happy Birthday.

I'd be lost without you. x

(now go and read your porn, I know you want to)

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**Lux In Obscuro**  
**.**  
**-**_The Light in The Dark_**-**

Black eyes stared back at him from the mirror.

There was a shitload of reasons why Dean just couldn't be bothered with giving even one third of a fuck anymore. And really why should he, after everything. He was one hundred percent done, having dedicated his entire life to a cause he'd apparently never had the fraction of a chance escaping from. The angels had called it Destiny, had called it Fate... well, he called it Bullcrap. Never could he have foreseen what kind of fucked-up storyline the universe had always had in store for him, and the ones he loved. Years before, Azazel had seemed like their biggest problem, and _no one_ in the history of ever had been as wrong as the Winchester brothers had been back then. Because after Yellow-Eyes there'd come Lilith, Archangels, Horsemen, Leviathans, Abaddon and Metafucktard, one always posing a threat of even grander proportions than the other, sending them up and down the messed up timeline they called their life. Dean had thought Hell was bad, spending forty years there in what seemed like- and kind of was- at least three lifetimes ago. Then Earth had almost been swallowed by the wrath of the pending Apocalypse and Dean had been there, too, witnessing helplessly how everything dissolved into an even uglier war than the one raging downstairs. Sometimes he found himself missing the old days, when they'd still been hunters and not biblical slaves, when they'd faced vampires, ghouls and wendigos instead of power-hungry dicks with wings, but yeah it's not like he chose any of this. And as he'd told Sam... he didn't really remember those times anyway.

Fighting never got them anywhere except into another pile of shit, because they had defeated Abaddon but Crowley- although temporarily kind of on their side of the battlefield- was still on Hell's version of the Iron Throne, and Metatron was behind bars but Heaven was further from recovery than ever. They couldn't seriously expect him or Sam or even Cas to keep up the fight after the past year, after the past half-decade. Sam had been possessed by pretty much anything now, drunk demon blood like he did liquor, Cas had been human or dead- which must feel like pretty much the same thing for an angel, he guessed- just about as often as they had died and all because of the Winchester Curse that made every single soul they came in contact with suffer miserably. Or killed them, if they were lucky enough.

Dean wasn't lucky, not ever. That's why he stood there in the bathroom of the bunker and stared at his reflection with all the self-loathing he had left in him. He could make the black eyes disappear at will, but he chose not to. Just to have a reminder of his failure, not only for himself but also for his brother and the angel. Neither should forget that he was an abomination, one of the monsters they used to slaughter. And yeah, he saw the irony in the fact that he had scolded Sammy all those years ago for drinking demon blood because compared to his existence now his younger brother seemed almost virtuous.

The only one who understood him seemed to be- and he admitted this somewhat begrudgingly- Crowley. The King of Hell was the one who had gotten him into this mess in the first place, but he was also the only one who didn't try to tell Dean that it would be okay, knowing just as well as the older Winchester- and very likely also Sam and Castiel- that this time it wouldn't be.  
So why the fuck keep up a pretence that would only hurt everyone involved.

Dean pushed himself off the wash basin and turned his back on the soulless stare from the mirror, leaving it behind to embrace what past-future-Cas had called Decadence; women and drugs. In his room he found the three women from earlier still waiting for him, exchanging kisses and tracing each other's bodies with their petite fingers. He found himself hardening already and was glad he had never made it into his jeans between the last round and his bathroom break, though he wasn't exactly eager for more just yet. The alternative was to grab a beer and watch the scene until he was in the mood again, which would probably not take that long anyway, he guessed as he watched the blonde lick some of the sugared whipped cream, a leftover from a fantasy he'd lived earlier, off the brunette while the redhead- he liked diversity- watched with vacant eyes not unlike him. When the bottle in his hand was empty he dropped it carelessly on the floor and began to leisurely stroke himself through his boxers, not feeling particularly pleased, just evoking his body's automatic reaction to familiar touches. He pretended that he wasn't spent, that he could still keep up these orgies, maybe for the rest of his life. (How long was that anyway? Until someone else was stupid enough to take on the Mark of Cain? Not that he would give it away- the burden was now his alone to carry.)

He found himself relieved when Crowley appeared next to him, gaze flicking to the three women appreciatively before facing Dean. "I'd say 'good morning' but it doesn't seem like you're aware of the time, lad."

True. He had no idea what time of the day, week or even month it was. "What do you want?" Dean asked, keeping his voice bored and indifferent so he wouldn't seem too eager to get away from three horny chicks. Something still yearned to protect his reputation.

"Moose and Chuckleface are in trouble and quite frankly I have more important tasks at hand than saving your damsels in distress, so do you think you could spare five minutes of your precious time to-" Dean didn't let him finish, snapping his fingers to clear the room. He wouldn't admit it but having the ability to shut Crowley up any time he pleased and a couple of other high-class demon knacks could at times come in handy.

In the next moment he found himself in a tunnel system , First Blade securely in his hand. He could smell sulphur- though there was a chance that it came from himself, the scent took time getting used to- but his heightened senses were searching for something else; Cas' celestial presence. It used to practically overwhelm him in the earlier days of his demonic self, a crushing feeling of pure power filling the bunker after the angel had restored his grace. They hadn't spoken much since then, which was partly- okay _fully_- his fault. Castiel's expression after he had first laid eyes upon this new version of Dean Winchester was still something that would haunt his dreams. Good thing he didn't need sleep anymore. Slowly he crept along the wall, feeling the familiar light of Cas' angelic charisma tug at his conscience and not long after he reached the missing two thirds of Team Free Will.

They were standing back to back, Sam tightly clutching Ruby's knife while Cas held up his Angel Blade, both ready for an attack. Apparently they had run straight into an ambush- rooky mistake- and now there was a horde of demons circling them.

"Hate to crash your party," Dean announced himself with a cocky grin, "but you're messing with the wrong people." This was too easy, the first demons already fleeing the scene before he even got to wave the Blade. The distraction was enough for both Cas and Sam to lurch forward and take out some of their opponents before they could react. With Dean's help the tunnel was free of demons in no time... or actually it wasn't as long as _he_ was still there, he realized as a wave of nausea washed over him. He had no time for self-pity before Sam spoke up.

"You shouldn't have come, Dean," he was obviously annoyed, "the situation was under control."

Dean snorted. "Sure it was. I guess the game plan was to stare them down until they left, huh?" He hated being a dick to his brother but it was easier this way. They needed a more distant relationship for the younger Winchester's safety.

"You know what? Fuck you," Sam barked, storing the knife away before he turned. "Are you okay, Cas?"

The angel nodded once, heart-wrenching stare fixated on Dean. Its intensity made the hunter _(ex-hunter?_) squirm. "What made you think your assistance was required?"

Dean's fingers tightened around the Blade for a moment. "Crowley told me you two got in trouble, I came over to save your asses. What the hell is your problem? Don't you think a 'thank you' is in store, or something?"

Castiel's head tilted in an all-too familiar way that did unspeakable things to Dean's insides. "Dean... we have not heard from you in a month," the angel stated. Dean's throat went dry. He hadn't known. Hadn't cared, really.

"Well, I'm here now, aren't I?" He blinked, knowing it would emphasize his black eyes. Maybe his two companions had forgotten that his company wasn't worth a thing anymore. They should stop waiting for him to return to his old self.

"Can you zap me back to the motel, Cas?" Sam's voice was harsh but Dean didn't miss the slight undertone of broken sadness. The angel didn't react. It seemed like he was halfway between running off or leaping toward Dean. A part of him wished it was the latter when he caught the angel's gaze. Castiel's impossibly blue eyes stared straight into his forlorn soul.

"Won't you stay at the bunker?" he asked huskily, for a moment forgetting that he was supposed to push them away.

Sam sent him one of his patented bitch faces and Dean flinched in recognition. He missed his brother. "Thanks but no thanks," the younger Winchester said, eyes glistening with emotion. "I can't watch you drown yourself in beer and women" -Dean thought he saw the angel flinch at the mention of his liaisons- "I gave you time to adjust, Cas gave you time to adjust- but you didn't and we won't just stay around to see you throwing yourself into depression. You didn't even notice when Cas stopped visiting or when I left. "

Dean grimaced. He wanted to apologize for how he was putting the only two people he could still trust through such misery but he couldn't do that. Not when he was this close to convincing Sammy to let go. A single glance at Castiel was enough to show him that the angel wasn't close to giving up, but somehow he'd manage to convince him too. Even if pushing the dark-haired man away for good killed the last spark of light left inside himself. "Suit yourself," he scoffed, upset about the fact that he while expecting his brother and his best friend to let go couldn't quite do it.

The next moment he was back in his empty room. He felt the urge to summon Crowley and ask him what the hell the whole thing had been about but he decided against it, grabbing another beer to calm his nerves. Dean was lost. And he had no idea at which point he had gone astray exactly. What he did know was that he had wished for a clean break and instead made his family hurt unnecessarily.

He needed to distract himself and that was easiest with mind-blowing sex- _mind-blowing_ in this case translated to _pointless_. So he called his three girls back and settled down on his bed, facing the ceiling and giving himself over to the meaningless sensations. Soon the room was filled with gasps and quiet moans as the blonde kissed down his neck- knowing better than to leave marks- and the redhead gave him a literal hand. The brunette he just ordered to sit in a corner and look pretty. God, he felt like a pimp and didn't give a shit. It was better than feeling like the demon he was.

The sex was alright. It drained him enough to not feel anything at all and that was kind of the purpose of it because whenever he did let the emotions get through it only made him see an ocean of cerulean blue eyes and dark hair and tan overcoats. He didn't need that, not right now when he was trying so very hard to get rid of these colours. He didn't even have the excuse that he was 'only human'. Because he wasn't.

At the door, which he had seemingly left slightly ajar, he saw a figure, someone he didn't need there at all. He didn't even have the decency to blush as the redhead worked away at his member, eliciting little grunts of gratification from him. Castiel stared on, gaze heavy with disappointment and something darker Dean couldn't quite pin, too lost in the sensation of warm lips around his dick.

He wanted to tell the angel to leave, though his choice of words would probably go along the lines of '_Fuck off, feathers_,' rather than a more polite phrasing. Dean stayed silent, provocatively keeping eye-contact with the celestial being standing just outside his room. The Winchester didn't want him to leave, he'd rather prefer him in his bed than the three girls, actually, but that'd be so very wrong considering... well, everything. An angel and a demon? No way.

Their... _situation..._ had been weird enough with him still human, developing into an all wrong (and oh so very right) direction after Purgatory. They had become a part of each other's lives and as much as they hurt each other and betrayed each other, they always found their way back together in the end, however hopeless the odds may be.

Was it really that different now?

His question was answered when the three girls disappeared into thin air, the lips on his dick immediately replaced by a new pair. Dean threw his head back in ecstasy, the surprise mingled with the sensation of _Castiel_ around his length too overwhelming to bear. God fucking damnit did that feel _good_. Dean couldn't help himself, the angel's name falling from his lips repeatedly in desperate whispers.

"You," Castiel growled once he released Dean's aching member, "you do not get to make my decisions for me." Again he felt himself being enclosed in the hot cavern that was the angel's mouth and if it wasn't the hottest thing he'd ever felt he didn't know what was. Castiel glared up at him, the expression in those deep, deep eyes wiping any thought- any doubt- from his mind, leaving him blanker than an empty sheet of paper.

"'M not, oh fuck, _Cas_!" he got out as the angel's tongue swirled around his tip and, God almighty, if it always felt this good then he didn't want to ever sleep with anyone else again, ever.

"Yes, Dean, you are," the angel murmured around his member, licking from base to tip- once- twice- _thrice_- Dean cried out. "You think it's in my best interest to be shut out. Let me inform you of this:"- another toe-curling suck at his tip- "it is not."

Dean was a panting mess. Even after weeks of sex with his three little whores it seemed his body was still capable of reacting with eagerness if touched by the right person. And it seemed like that person was no other than the angel Castiel. "I don't want to hurt you, Cas."  
It came out as a pathetic whimper because the angel in question took great care in working his by now almost painful erection. Slender fingers had replaced chapped lips and while the oral attention had been immensely pleasurable he could not in the slightest complain about the treatment he was currently getting. "Shit, where'd you _learn_ that?"

Castiel pressed his lips tightly together in his own personal version of a smirk before he answered. "Observation."

The realisation that his friend (okay, well, they were kind of past the point of friendship now) had been watching added to his arousal. "Jesus fuck!" he exclaimed when Castiel once more engulfed his length with his mouth, looking impossibly content with what he was doing.

"Don't blaspheme," the angel warned half-heartedly but Dean couldn't help himself. He was squirming under the touches, wishing for more and less at the same time, torn between the wish for release and the desire to drag the experience out as long as possible. Castiel's tongue worked his dick expertly, finding all the sweet spots and giving them the attention they deserved. His ability to form proper verbal responses was lost.

"Can't. God. Cas. So good," was all he got out incoherently between grunts and little yelps of bliss. Never would he admit it but for a long time now he had wished for something like this to happen, even if he'd always imagined himself to play the more dominant, the more active part in the performance. Now there was not a fibre in his body that wanted the angel to stop what he was doing.

"Do you have any idea what you are doing to me? Dean?" Castiel's voice was rough as his mouth once again left the hunter's dick and he realised that while he was stark naked, his dark-haired counterpart was still fully clothed. That was not fair.

"I'm sorry- can you take off your clothes, please."

"No." The angel's voice was heavy with determination.

What the fuck? "_No?_"

"For more than a month you have done nothing but push me- and others- away," Castiel's lips were mere inches from his own. He only needed to lean in... The angel pulled away. "I will not make this easy for you. You will be required to make a choice."

"Anything," Dean promised breathlessly, finally finding the courage in himself to reach out and cup his companion through the dark slacks he was wearing.

"You cannot continue to degrade yourself to nothing, because that is not what you are." The angel's voice came out as a rough whisper right next to his ear. "You are the bravest, kindest, most selfless being I have had the honour to encounter in all the millennia of my existence. Don't pretend like you have lost your entire character because of the change you are undergoing. It is merely your body that is altered, not your soul."

And that precisely was the wrong choice of words.

"Cas, I don't have no goddamn soul, damnit," he swore, hands flying up to cover his pitch black eyes. "Not anymore."

Cautiously he allowed himself to sneak a peek at the angel still lying on top of him after a minute of heavy silence. A pair of blue orbs met his and as he blinked he didn't even notice that he automatically changed his eye-colour back to a pale shade of green.

"Dean, I know this is hard for you. I cannot possibly imagine how hard. But you- as much as you pretend otherwise- are not alone in this. Your brother and I are always concerned, we wish nothing more than for you to... come to terms with what has happened."

Had Dean not be trained to suppress his true emotions he might have turned into a bundle of pathetic sobs right then and there. After everything Cas was still with him, ready to calm him, prepared to fix him. "I don't understand how you can still say that."

If possible the angel's eyes softened further. "We're family."

And yes, that they were indeed.

Dean once again wished to kiss the angel, but the damn stubborn celestial being turned away once more. "No, Dean. I want you to think about the things I have told you, really consider them. You do not understand yet."

With the flutter of wings he was alone in his suddenly too big room, painfully aroused and at the same time absolutely drained. He had the feeling that he would not call his three girls back anytime soon. Maybe not ever.

**Xx**

It took Dean one week until he called Castiel back to the bunker.

A week during which he pondered over what the angel had told him, re-evaluated the entire nature of the bond they shared- so accurately labelled as _profound_ by the feathered entity himself a long, long time ago. He had spent more time than he would care to admit in the shower, losing himself in a flood of not only the water raining down on him but also the images and memories of years and years of comradeship, of friendship. In the end the depictions in his mind always went back to those rough lips, chapped and pink and full, wrapped around the most sensitive part of his body, and those two ponds of bottomless blue penetrating every wall, every charade he had so carefully built around him.

John had always warned him about trust, about letting people in. Because as hard as it was to open up to someone, it was always infinitely more draining to shut them out again. And Dean had learned this the hard way over and over again, had won and lost and welcomed and pushed away many characters in his life.

Now only three were left.

Sammy of course, his baby brother. To him he often looked up- not only in the literal sense, considering their difference in height but also because he often found himself wishing for half the bravery the younger Winchester possessed. He could manage life on his own, could leave things behind and let people go if it helped the grander scheme of things. Dean was very different from that. He couldn't let go, although over the years he had put a lot of work into his feigned bravado whenever there were goodbyes to be said. A lot of times he even managed to fool himself.

Then there was Crowley, the literal King of Hell itself, the ex-crossroads-demon that did seldom anything but betray them and yet helped them out all the same. Maybe they felt this strange connection because Crowley- too- knew the pain of complete and utter loneliness. On some days Dean was almost glad for the quiet- as quiet as it got with Crowley- company they kept, sharing the occasional bottle of liquor, reminiscing in the eerie fact that they shared many similar traits, as much as either acted oblivious to it.

The third was no other than the angel- maybe _his_ angel. Castiel. Once their opponent, now the closest friend Dean had ever had, an ally in his darkest moments. There was something about the feathered guy that made the hunter lose his shit. He had come into his life on an order and stayed for good, allowing himself to question his superiors and their motives, slowly- painfully so- learning that there were more sides to the 'mud-monkeys' than the angels believed. Castiel had fallen for him, Dean Winchester, out of his own will. It had taken years for Dean to truly understand what sacrifices the angel had made for him through his fall from grace, through how much agony and confusion he had gone. And not once had he gotten a thank you, not a genuine one at least.

All because the righteous man was incapable of properly dealing with the people he cared about.

Dean felt a full-blown panic attack creep up on him as he paced the bathroom, contemplating whether or not to give in, admit his weakness, show his imperfections and share them with someone who cared. He almost wished for the Mark and the Blade to take control over him again as they had done when he'd still been a mere human, the urge to kill overshadowing any other emotions stirring in the depths of his being. Now that he had no trouble controlling himself- being the strongest freaking demon in existence and all- he had all the time in the world to give in to other feelings of a different nature. Not quite as dark as the urge to slaughter everything in his path, but still far from unicorns and rainbow puppies.

In the end it was the realisation that he wanted Castiel to stay in his life, to help him out and stick by his side as he had done for years, that forced him to make one of the hardest decisions in his life- and that said something considering his history and the deals and choices he had been confronted with. Maybe it was a horrible decision to make but Dean was willing to take the chance. He swallowed his doubts down and cleared his throat.

"Cas...?" His palms were getting sweaty. "Cas. Um, got a minute to spare?" It was a ridiculous concept. A demon praying for an angel... did that even work?

The flutter of wings could be heard, followed by a gravelly voice that sent inappropriate sparks flying to his groin. "You called, Dean?"

Dean was slightly startled that the angel's words were muffled by the fact that he had apparently landed on the opposite side of the locked door. "Yeah. I did." After a moment's hesitation he crossed the room quickly and opened the door. Suddenly he found his nose all but brushing the angel's. "Hi," he breathed.

"Hello." Cas almost smiled.

"What're you doing out here?"

"I have learned from past experiences that you do not appreciate me joining you in the lavatory, Dean." And wow if that wasn't uncharacteristically considerate.

The hunter couldn't phrase any form of response, too captivated by the way the angel's breath was fanning against his heated skin. Was the no-touching barrier between them broken for good after their last encounter? Could he- theoretically- reach out and drag the dark-haired man into his room? His bed?

Apparently the angel had the worst timing in history for grasping the concept of personal space because he took a step back. "Have you considered my words?"

" I guess."

Castiel tilted his head, the action accompanied by a slight squinting of his eyes. Dean's heart did a girly flip. "So stubborn," the angel stated. "No matter how often I tell you... you still doubt you are worth saving."

_Well, 'cause I ain't_.

He bit back the remark and cast his eyes downwards, avoiding those blue orbs of his companion. "It's me who saves people, not the other way around. If I can't do that, then I failed." There was a pregnant silence until he dared to meet the angel's eyes once more. He was hit by the full force of a stare that held anger, exasperation and- dare he think it- _love_ all at once.

"See, this is where you're so very wrong, Dean," Cas shook his head slowly, pityingly before he took two steps right back into his personal space, pinning him against the wall by placing his hands on either side of the hunter's head. For a moment he wondered if he'd be able to shove the celestial creature away now that he possessed demonic strength. "You ought to stop thinking that the burden of the world must be solely carried by you, because that is not the case. It is amiable that you would think such a thing but it will ultimately destroy you to keep up this belief. I know that you've been betrayed by many people. People you thought you could trust, like your brother... or _me_. But Dean you would still always give anything for either of us. What you seem to ignore is that we would do the same for you."

"I know I can always count on you and Sam." He meant it. Never for a second had he sincerely doubted their loyalty to him.

"Then why don't you?"

What was the winged bastard's problem. "I'm dangerous."

Castiel chuckled roughly, breath tickling his face. "And I'm not? Do you really, truly believe that I need protection? I have my grace back, Dean. I am stronger than I have been in a very long time. As is your brother. I have fully healed him and you must understand that he is very capable of taking care of himself."

Dean heard the words but was transfixed by the mesmerising movements of those full lips so very close to his own. This was torture and he realised that Castiel was doing it on purpose to distract him. And it was working, damnit. With his resolve crumbling he already knew that Castiel had won, had broken down his walls enough to climb over them. "I know," he said, defeated.

That apparently was all the angel needed to hear. In the next instant eager lips were on his in a kiss that sent a whirlwind of emotions free. Okay, forget the whirlwind, this was nothing short of a freaking _hurricane_. Castiel's lips moved slow but demanding with his own and Dean wondered where the hell his innocent virtuous angel from five years ago had picked this up- he doubted it was April the Reaper's doing alone. Involuntarily he broke away, gasping for air he didn't really need but his chest was filled with so much feeling that he was sure if he kept kissing Cas he would burst. Soon he found himself drawn back in, however, and this time he had his mind set on taking the lead. He lurched forward, grabbing Castiel by his shirt- the tie was missing- and re-connected their mouths, immediately letting his tongue dart out to taste his companion's bottom lip, urging him to open up. The angel gasped at the sensation and Dean wasted no time to conquer the other's mouth, mapping out the damp opening with eager if somewhat tentative strokes of his tongue. Cas participated gloriously, his own tongue joining the battle, the collision almost too much to bear. The hunter found himself wishing he could climb into his angel just so he could be closer to him. He wanted more, would always want more.

Their kisses turned sloppy with want, constantly interrupted by needy gasps and whimpers that increased in frequency as their battle of tongues and teeth went on. What seemed like a long time later Dean felt the urge to spice things up further and in an unsuspecting moment he swiftly spun the angel around so their positions were reversed. This gave him the opportunity to shove one leg in between Castiel's, drawing a long moan from the slightly shorter man. The noise alone was enough to make Dean lightheaded but together with the hardness he felt pressing into his thigh it was overwhelming. He had to break away from his angel's lips, occupying his mouth by placing teasing kisses along his jaw-line and down his throat. When he reached up to the provocatively unbuttoned shirt- _just like he had taught him_- he pushed the fabric out of the way so he could suck at the angel's clavicle. And he had yet to find a person who did not turn to mush at that action, because he was undefeated champion in that department.

Castiel responded just as intended with a rough growl of pleasure as his entire body sagged, head violently connecting with the wall with an audible 'thump', something that might have been painful to anyone else. Not an angel, of course. Dean doubted his friend (_lover?_) had even noticed. And _oh_ the realisation opened a door to a whole new world of bedroom fantasies because _he hadn't even noticed_. With Cas he didn't need to worry about hurting him or being too rough, ever, just like the other way around.

They would have to test that theory, of course.

Preferably starting right-friggin'-_now_.

"Cas," he whined breathlessly as the angel seemingly without intending to thrust his hips forward, his erection dragging along Dean's thigh in the process. _Fuck_. "Bedroom," he ordered, earning nothing but a shaky nod as a response. They would need to slow things down if he wanted Castiel to last, because even though being rough might not hurt the angel, he had still been a freaking virgin until a couple of months ago and Dean guessed-_hoped_- that there hadn't been anyone else after April. Poor guy was probably suffering from a severe case of blue balls and sensory overload at the same time.

"Dean." His name called the hunter-gone-darkside back. Cas cleared his throat, eyes struggling to stay focused. "I would very much appreciate it... if we could actually _move_."

Right. _Bedroom_, he reminded himself and simply by willing himself away he vanished, re-appearing in his room half a heartbeat later. Alone. Well, this was awkward. He didn't have time to ponder over the fact that he had just accidentally left a flustered Castiel just outside his bathroom before he was thrown back onto the worn mattress of his bed by a blur of trench coated angel. An ungainly grunt escaped his lips as the air got knocked out of his lungs and he didn't get the chance to recover before a by now familiar pair of chapped lips was on his own. The angel wasted not a second on tenderness, instead biting down hard on Dean's bottom lip, forcing him to gasp and therefore allowing entrance for Castiel's tongue. "Easy there, Tiger," he scolded mildly, voice coated with amusement as he pulled back.

"Oh, I think we will have plenty of opportunities to 'go easy'," Dean could practically _hear_ the air quotes but was too distracted by the gruff voice of his companion as he continued, "but I would much prefer it if this wasn't one of them."

And who was he to disagree with that.

A predatory growl broke from his lips as he turned them over with ease, pinning Cas to his bed, which seemed like a good idea at the time but soon proved to come with the unfortunate disadvantage of substantially complicating his mission to get the angel naked. He tugged and yanked at the tan material of the overcoat and the black suit jacket below but to no avail, frustrating not only himself but also the angel to no end. What he still tended to forget was that the figure writhing beneath his body was a powerful celestial being. In the literal blink of an eye there was not a single layer of clothing left between them and the sudden contact of skin on skin for the first time was so sudden and unexpected that Dean thought he might faint from the bolt of pleasure shooting through him. And yeah, he got where his angel's impatience was coming from, after like four billion years of abstinence and another five freaking years- which felt like _another_ billion- of foreplay enough was enough.

He reached down between their bodies, both slick with sweat, and cautiously enclosed Cas' stiff member with his calloused fingers, eliciting a soft whimper from his lips. The sound made his heart flutter and his dick harden. "Tell me-" his voice broke when Castiel returned the gesture and started to pump his shaft with a shaking hand. Lack of experienced he made up for with a mind-blowing set of natural skill and his ability to transfer what he observed into actions seamlessly. Dean chuckled, head falling onto his angel's chest. He attempted to speak again, if only in a raw murmur. "Tell me what you want, Cas."

The movement of Castiel's hand quickened as his strokes became steadier, more confidence behind the pleasuring touch as he answered. "You, Dean. Always you."

The words alone, whispered so breathlessly into the room, could have sent Dean over the edge. He lifted his head, hooded green eyes searching for their blue counterparts, and was stunned by what he found. Castiel was looking at him with utmost adoration- for lack of a better word- his calm and loving expression in stark contrast to both the frantic movement of his hand and jerking hips.

It was at that moment that he realised he did not only love his angel, because that wasn't entirely new to him, but he was also head over heels _in love_ with him. Dean Winchester, former hunter, almost Michael Sword and as of recent Knight of Hell (sort of) was a total goner for Castiel, Angel of the Lord.

Suddenly the desire to simply get them both off shifted somewhat to the back of his mind because right now he needed to show his angel what a huge-ass epiphany he'd just had, and because he couldn't very well do that without it resulting in the greatest chick-flick moment of his life he had to communicate his feelings through other means. So he leaned down and pressed his lips softly to Castiel's, hand leaving the other's throbbing member to cup his face properly. Cas didn't seem to mind and responded by running a hand through Dean's hair while the other, previously around his dick, ran up his sides in a feather-light touch, barely even grazing the skin. A blissful shiver vibrated through Dean's body, a trail of gooseflesh following the path of his lover's digits while their lips still never broke apart.

The kiss wasn't demanding now, lips moving almost lazily in a soft rhythm, in a lot of ways more breathtaking than the lust-crazed ones that had been exchanged before. However, as quickly as things had cooled down they heated up again when their erections came into direct contact through a blissfully random shift of hips and legs. There was a flood of gasps and groans and little grunts and suddenly Dean felt a whoosh of air and in the next instant found himself buried beneath his flushed angel- who looked like he was seriously done with their games, as pleasurable as they were.

"I think now comes the part where you fuck me."

Oh God, Castiel couldn't _possibly_ have any idea how arousing it was to hear a supposedly pure creature drop the F-bomb, and in such a filthy context no less. Dean felt his dick twitch expectantly as he reached around Cas to start working him open, readying him for what was to come only to find that the angel was already stretched sufficiently. Blessed be his Mojo. He grabbed his shaft to guide himself only to stop an inch short of Cas' opening, realising that some lube would probably make the whole experience more enjoyable, even if neither party had to worry about pain.

Castiel seemed to read his mind because he smirked- although it turned into a grimace of self-control when Dean pushed the head of his cock up against the angel's hole- and let a tube of lubricant appear in his hand. Dean accepted it with a dirty little wink before he flicked it open and coated his fingers with the gel. He grew increasingly impatient now and quickly returned his hand to his throbbing member to lube it up before he forcefully thrust up into the all-too willing angel without a single word of warning. The angle of penetration wasn't perfect but Castiel threw his head back in ecstasy nonetheless as Dean sunk in deeper and deeper until he was fully sheathed. For a minute that lasted an eternity neither moved. Then Cas lifted himself up a few inches to drop back down. He repeated the motion a view times before picking up speed and it took everything for the demon not to yell a string of obscenities from how ridiculously awesome it felt to have his angel ride him like that.

He knew that Castiel hadn't been with a guy before, so he probably had no freaking idea what he was missing out on if they didn't change their position soon because the noises his angel was emitting were unholy, to say the least, and if he kept making them then Dean sure as hell wouldn't last another two minutes. The problem was that in order to switch positions they had to actually move- as in _turn over_- which might result in Dean slipping out and that might... well, he might actually _cry_.

In a desperate attempt to draw the situation out as long as possible Dean gripped the angel's hips in a bruising grasp to still his motions that were already losing rhythm as his climax neared. "Slow down, buddy," he grunted, both cursing and blessing the sudden lack of friction. "We're not done yet."

Castiel let out an animalistic growl and tried to move against the restraining hold Dean had on him. After a moment of struggling they both realised that it was getting him nowhere. Demon strength seemed to beat angel power, and _fuck_; if possible Dean's dick went another notch harder in approval. In a daring experiment he acted on a spontaneous impulse and willed them to be in another position, equally surprised and pleased when he was suddenly on top, looking down on a very startled angel. "You're not the only one that's got Mojo now," he teased and leaned down to kiss the mask of confusion off that pretty face before he took up thrusting his hips to finally finish this before either or both of them exploded from anticipation.

It took him a couple of readjustments until a yell broke from Castiel's mouth and the very air between them vibrated with the surge of power he accidentally set free as he hit the sweetest spot possible. There really wasn't any way to draw the pleasure-trip out much longer so he just sped up the jerking motions of his hips, hitting the bull's eye with every single thrust until Castiel's grunts mingled with his own in a deafening concert of pure lust. Dean started pumping his angel's member in time with his movements and aimlessly placed a hot, open-mouthed kiss on his pink lips.

Then it was over.

Castiel's muscles clenched around his dick and it brought such bittersweet pain that he himself almost shot his load, but he needed Cas to let go before him, so he roughly moved his thumb over the angel's dripping tip, which was all it took for him to reach his orgasm. And Dean knew that it was absolutely and utterly mind-numbing because he followed suit not two seconds later, both moaning noisily into the other's mouth through their shared climax while the air was practically on fire with the suffocating energy released.

**Xx**

The good thing about angel-demon-sex was that you didn't have to worry about making a mess either because with a snap of Dean's fingers- or a graceful (pun kind of intended) wave of Castiel's hand- they were both cleaned of anything unnervingly sticky, comfortably laying in the rumpled sheets, bodies intertwined, breathing still ragged. Dean felt a sense of contentment he had long thought to be entirely lost and he came to the conclusion that they should have done this five years ago because it would have spared them a truckload of pain and depression. Positive emotions had been a rarity for Dean.

Now he felt bliss, felt delight, felt love.

Dean Winchester experienced his first moment of genuine happiness in... way too long. He pulled the dark-haired man another inch closer to his chest to minimize the space between them, nuzzling his neck as Cas let his fingers dance across the arms wrapped around him. "Thank you," Dean said quietly, breaking the cocoon of silence they had been wrapped up in. "For, you know... everything." And yeah it was totally lame and cliché but it was also the truth.

"Sex can be a very powerful tool of persuasion," the angel stated with feigned nonchalance. "And bribery," he added with an evident smirk in his voice.

"Oh, come on, Cas. I'm not _that_ shallow. You know I actually let your speech sink in and didn't just call you back to finish where we'd left off. It wasn't just for the sex."

"The sex did play a big part though, admit it."

If that prick said 'sex' one more time in that rough bedroom voice this conversation would be over before Dean got to get his point across. He huffed in exasperation. "Fine. _Fine_. You know what? It's true, alright! It sped up the process." A frown formed on his face. "You happy now?"

Castiel turned to look back at him, expression soft. "Very," he said, and it sounded like the sincerest thing he'd ever heard in his life.

It made three famous little words burn on the tip of his tongue but he bit them back, unable to get them past his lips. But he stared deeply into his angel's cerulean blue eyes and knew in that moment that Cas _knew_.

"D'you think Sammy'll forgive me?" he asked. Cas' gaze softened further and her rolled over so that he lay on his stomach, half draped across Dean's bare chest, kissing the skin just above his heart.

"Of course, Dean. Sam is merely worried, understandably. If you were to approach him, he would be happy to reconcile with you."

The hushed words of reassurance lifted a great weight off Dean and he sunk back into the pillows, tense muscles relaxing again. "I'll talk to him first thing tomorrow," he announced solemnly.

"Or," Cas murmured, tone challenging, "you could talk to him the day after that and we could spend tomorrow... on other activities." With that the angel moved his lips up Dean's chest, placing tiny bites on his flesh until he reached his exposed throat, sucking violently.

"I guess Sam can wait another day," the hunter said, voice an octave too high. A new wave of arousal crashed over him and he let his hands roam the lithe body above his own as he gave in to the sensation. All dark thoughts he'd horded only days, heck- only _hours_ before were gone, now the mere shadow of a memory, giving way to a new shimmering future, thanks to Castiel.

That wonderfully persistent little bastard.

**Xx**

The next day was spent almost exclusively in bed, neither of them really needing nourishment or bathroom breaks or even sleep and while they _were_ at times at it like a pair of horny teenagers, they also shared quiet moments of just laying in each other's presence, letting the situation sink in. He was still himself, maybe no longer human and certainly no active hunter either- though at heart he'd always be one- but he was still a Winchester all the same. And the angel was still just that as well. They were Dean and Cas, like they'd always been... just new and improved and so much better together than apart.

Cas lay on his back, one arm pillowing his head while he ran his free hand through Dean's short hair, massaging his scalp with soothing circular motions. The Winchester wasn't really a _cuddler_, never had been, but with his angel it was a lot different than with any chick. He didn't need to show off or seem like Mr Testosterone because Cas knew his true self. So why bother. Cuddling was nice and there wasn't anyone who'd hold it against him that he maybe kind of enjoyed nuzzling his angel's skin or kissing his neck every once in a while, right? Sheesh. It's not like anyone would come barging in.

Dean really should have knocked on wood.

"Well, aren't you two lovebirds a sight for sore eyes?" The familiar sneering voice came from the foot of the bed, making both Dean and Cas stiffen in surprise.

"Crowley?!" the hunter exclaimed, sitting up as Cas did the same. The King of Hell cringed, picking up the comforter from where it had dropped on the floor and throwing it roughly over the pair in the bed.

"I know you've never been one for modesty, but humour me." Dean begrudgingly tugged the blanket over his and his lover's- God that sounded cheesy- naked bodies, still glaring daggers at the now smirking demon a few feet away. To everyone's surprise it was Castiel who spoke up, voice evidently laced with irritation.

"What do you want?"

"Can't I just pop in to see how my favourite Squirrel is keeping up every once in a while?" When he was met by two looks that clearly said 'cut to the chase' his smug smile faltered. "Okay, okay. You're bloody grumpy considering you've been screwing for hours, you know. I thought I've given you enough time."

"Wait, you came in _before_?" Dean huffed.

"Oh, believe me, I'd rather not speak of it," Crowley cringed theatrically. "Now, about my visit." The demon clutched his hands together gaze travelling between the angel and Dean. "I wanted to see how things worked out. And I see it went well."

"_What_ did?" Castiel growled, obviously not trusting a single syllable that left Crowley's mouth.

"Why you two, of course. Took long enough for you to take the initiative, you feathered moron. How many hints did I drop, hm? I had to really send Squirrel here straight into your arms for you to get a move on."

Dean looked back and forth between demon and angel. "Do I even want to ask?"

Crowley sneered and said "I don't know, do you?" at the same time that Castiel hissed "No."

For a long time the room was quiet after that, air uncomfortably prickling with tension. Dean didn't get it. It wasn't like the mutual thing between himself and Cas had been a secret exactly, they had been teased and judged by foes and friends alike over the years. But what was it that made Crowley _of all people_ give a shit? In his confusion his mouth opened a couple of times until he realised he really didn't know what to say and closed it again without even so much as a tiny puff of air coming out.

"Oh come _on_," Crowley finally said and if he'd rolled his eyes any harder Dean was certain they would've gotten stuck in the back of the demon's head. "You've been constantly _whining_ to me about your misery and how you couldn't risk hurting them and how much Cassie here probably hated you. If you weren't stronger than me now I would have killed you to shut you up but I had to settle for other options, obviously."

"Let me get that straight," Dean said, brow furrowed. "You played matchmaker... because I was annoying?"

"Well deduced, Mr Holmes." Crowley smirked. "I knew your significant other- that's _you_, by the way" he motioned toward Cas "would snap if he saw the poor state you were in live and in technicolour, instead from a safe distance."

Dean huffed.

"Have you looked in a mirror recently...?" Crowley hesitated half a second, "Wait, you're Dean Winchester, of course you have." He chuckled at his own- very unfunny- joke. "You've seen better days, although I must admittedly say that you do look... less bad now. "

A year ago Dean might have actually believed the former crossroads demon's story but he knew the creature well enough by now to differentiate between lie and truth and somewhere behind the well-built mask of teasing and emotionless banter he saw the distinct hint of legitimate concern. He was quite touched if he was being completely honest. This was just kind of how their relationship worked, they loathed each other but simultaneously had their subtle moments of truce. Of course he wouldn't openly acknowledge that, so he played along.

"Guess I gotta thank you then, huh?" His voice was mocking but he sent the demon across the room a look of gratitude.

It was received with a delicate nod of Crowley's head before he shot an answering remark back. "I accept cash and credit cards." With that and a snap of his fingers he was gone just as suddenly as he'd appeared. Dean chuckled to himself, shaking his head as he though how freaking messed up his life was before he turned to his angel who had yet to move or utter a word.

"Cas, you okay?" he asked, his voice together with the fingers he softly stroked along the other's arm obviously startling his companion out of his thoughts.

"I didn't know he was aware of my staying close to you. I thought I was being subtle enough and his remarks were purely to tease me. I should have known when he sent you to help me and Sam, even though it was redundant. The fact that he was manipulating me makes me uncomfortable, because I should have known better than to fall for his tricks."

" Well, I'm kinda glad you did, though. He's right, I was in a terrible state and wouldn't let anyone help me, so he helped anyway in his own way by approaching you instead of me because I wouldn't accept anything else." Dean shrugged and deflated the fact that Crowley sort of cared for him by adding "I'm guessing he bastard needs me non-suicidal."

Cas nodded with finality and untangled himself from the sheets as well as Dean's limbs. "I think you might want to talk with Sam now."

Dean cringed, "Crowley ruined the mood, huh?" The angel's features softened and his blue eyes shone with an unspoken apology as he leaned down and softly pressed his lips to Dean's. For a second he considered pulling his partner back down on top of him but in the end he knew Sam deserved to know that he was sorry for being a major dick.

**Xx**

They found his brother in a neglected little room, cramped with ancient furniture that reeked of grime and old people. The walls were full of mediocre paintings and deer antlers and Dean was pretty certain that little clouds of dust poofed into the air whenever he took a step on the carpeted floor. Sam sat at the tiny table below the room's only lamp and meticulously cleaned one of his guns. He didn't turn to face the intruders of his private Sam Time of Sulkery and just addressed the angel without noticing that there were indeed two people.

"Hey Cas, where've you been?"

Dean spoke up- "Guess again, Sammy." He felt his heart beat nervously in his chest when Sam slowly turned in his chair, face hard to read. Suddenly his mouth was really dry because what the hell was he supposed to say now, anyway?

Cas seemed to sense the tension and reassuringly ran his fingers over Dean's back in the ghost of a touch. It was scary how calming such a simple gesture could be. "I'll leave you two to talk," he said and disappeared with a flutter of his wings.

Just like that it was merely the two Winchesters in the room.

"Hey," Dean started awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck while he tried to look at anything but his brother.

"Hey," the younger Winchester echoed coldly. "Need anything?"

"Actually," Dean finally grew a pair and looked up, knowing Sam was probably surprised that his eyes weren't black for a change. "I wanted to apologize."

His brother's eyebrows shot up so high they almost left his forehead. "You...," he started but had to stop and huff in disbelief. "You want to... apologize."

"Yeah. I was being an ass. I know how fucked up we get whenever one of us dies- the whole angel possession thing proved that- and when I wasn't actually dead, I kind of ignored how the whole situation must've affected you. I just knew how bad it was for _me_ and how much _I_ wished I'd died instead of becoming... this," he helplessly motioned down his body. "I just kinda assumed you'd hate me as much as I hated myself and... I'm sorry for dying on you... I'm sorry for not letting you or Cas help me and I'm sorry for making a decision for you that wasn't mine to make. _Again_."

Sam was stunned into silence, his hazel eyes finally glistening with some sort of emotion. "Thank you," he finally said.

"You forgive me?" Dean needed to make sure, not wanting to jump to conclusions.

"Of course I do, you jerk," his brother grumbled. The ritualistic response of '_Bitch'_ died on Dean's tongue as the taller man got up and crossed the room in two of his ridiculously wide steps, engulfing him in a hug. He hadn't been aware that he'd been holding his breath but as soon as he fell into the familiar embrace he regained his ability to breathe normally. They pulled apart before it got awkward and the demon flashed the hunter a sincere smile.

"Can I ask what brought on the enlightenment?" Sam asked curiously, folding his arms over his broad chest.

"Yoga," Dean deadpanned, earning himself bitchface #37 followed by a laugh. The two brothers were back in their routine, even though their relationship was still far from okay but maybe they might put some work into it, for once cutting back on the betrayal and preferably the dying.

"No, but seriously, Dean. You don't get this kind of deeper insight while eating your fruit loops, so what's happened?"

The demon squirmed under the inquiry, suddenly unsure how to bring up the subject of him and Castiel. He didn't even know what to label whatever it was they had going and didn't want to ruin it by telling his brother too soon. Then again... _Crowley_ already knew and before Sam had to learn of their change in relationship from _him_ he'd rather spill the beans himself. "I think Cas should come back before I say anything..." he mumbled, silently sending a prayer to the angel who was supposedly listening anyway.

A moment later Cas stood back in the exact same spot he had occupied prior to his departure. "How did it go?" he asked, not even so much as glancing at Sam. Dean smiled at him to signal that everything was fine.

"I think we, uh... need to tell Sam," he stuttered, gauging the angel's reaction. In answer he got a single nod.

"Tell me what?" Sam piped up from where he was standing, gaze curiously wandering from demon to angel.

"Dean and I are engaging in intercourse," Cas stated dryly, looking rather pleased with himself. Had Dean not been so immensely embarrassed by the angel's blunt phrasing he might have laughed at his little brother's facial expression. There was confusion, followed by understanding, followed by a cringe until the younger man settled on a knowing smirk.

"I knew it. I knew you had that after-sex glow. Hah, who would've guessed." Sam let out a huffed laugh. "I'm actually happy for you guys. Seriously. Though please, for the sake of my sanity spare me the details."

The relief that the news didn't seem to be all that surprising to his brother silenced him and he just smiled, realising for the hundredth time that he couldn't have made a bigger mistake than try and handle things alone when he had two great people to stick by his side and help him.

"So, are you gonna come back home or what?" he finally asked, glad that after God knows how many years they finally had a place to always return to. Sam made a move to nod his head but stopped mid-motion, looking sceptically between the demon and his angel.

"How long have you two been... y'know...?"

"Aww, you know I don't kiss and tell, Sammy," Dean joked.

Sam snorted. "Dean, you don't kiss and _not_ tell. Ever."

While that was true Dean still feigned incredulity before shrugging. "Why, if you _must_ know... things heated up after I got you out of that ambush." He reached out to the angel who was standing too close anyway- not that he was complaining- and interlaced their fingers to emphasize his point.

"Which was still totally unnecessary, by the way," Sam said with an eye-roll. "But yeah, I don't think I'll come back just yet."

"What?" He stared at his brother. "Come on, Sam. You can't seriously prefer this derelict shithole over your own bed, I thought we were good."

"We _are_," Sam assured, smirking slightly. "It's just... that you guys are probably in your honeymoon-phase... and we kinda share a wall."

Castiel frowned. "Sam, I can assure you that your brother and I have not eloped. We do not share a marital bond and are not _honeymooning_."

Both Winchesters laughed heartily at that, confusing the angel further until Dean pressed a soft kiss to his temple. "He means he doesn't want to hear it when I make you scream," he whispered before he added a bit louder, "which, for the record, I excel at."

Sam grimaced. "Okay. _Gross_. This just tells me I'm making the right decision in staying here for another while."

"Hey, man. Whatever floats your boat." The older Winchester shrugged. "Now I think we should go... places to be and all that Jazz."

"You're just gonna screw now, aren't you." Sam didn't even ask, just stated the obvious.

"Hell yeah we are. Don't come pokin' around before tomorrow or somethin'. And don't barge in unannounced, we've had enough of that shit."

Sam pursed his lips, obviously not getting the reference. "Nah, don't worry, I wouldn't want to risk needing brain-bleaching. You two... get it out of your system."

The pair beamed at the hunter and Dean sent him a filthy wink before they vanished, leaving behind a utterly relieved, very amused and slightly disgusted Sam Winchester.

**Xx**

Back in his room Dean wasted no time and pulled his angel into a tender kiss, hands resting on his beloved's hips. "That went well," he murmured as he pulled back, amused when Cas instinctively chased after his retreating lips.

"I'm glad," the angel said with sincerity before his eyes darkened and he stole another kiss, already tugging at Dean's t-shirt suggestively. "Now, if I understood correctly I would say we should use the time that your brother isn't living here wisely," Castiel moved his lips to Dean's throat, sucking at the sensitive skin, his voice sending vibrations through Dean's entire body as he continued. "And I, as we have established already, am not the only one that _screams_..."

Needless to say that was enough to end the conversation.

* * *

_FIN_


End file.
